


A Tree and A Box

by TheAntleredPolarBear



Series: Maul Skywalker [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Life day, Maul Skywalker AU, nice things, you CAN have nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8159830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAntleredPolarBear/pseuds/TheAntleredPolarBear
Summary: Shmi Skywalker has been shunted back and forth across the galaxy since she was five years old, and met her fair share of Wookiees. She’d been lucky enough to share a Life Day celebration with a pair of them before. It had been wonderful, a shining moment of hope and friendship amidst the turmoil and fear ever present in the life of a slave. And if there's one thing a troubled child could use, it's some hope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning for brief mentions of child death and abuse. Nothing at all graphic.

Life Day hasn’t yet reached the Outer Rim planet that the Coursec family has called home for generations. The day passes like any other, with business, housework and playtime all just the same. There are no decorations, no special music, and not a gift in sight. But Shmi has been shunted back and forth across the galaxy for thirteen years, and met her fair share of Wookiees. She’d been lucky enough to share a Life Day celebration with a pair of them before: Malry, and her infant daughter Atuma. It had been wonderful, a shining moment of hope and friendship amidst the turmoil and fear ever present in the life of a slave.

She rather thinks that a troubled child could use some hope.

He’s three years old now, and very small and quiet. Out of respect for the strange woman who had presented them with such a gift, Master Gaexan had kept the name she’d given the boy: Maul. Shmi doesn’t consider it a fitting name at all, but she won’t disregard her master’s wishes.

She doesn’t know what Maul’s life had been before he’d come to them, but Shmi can only conclude that it must have been awful. He didn’t know how to be held when he first arrived, and often shied away from any contact. He would wolf down his food like a wild animal, as if he was scared someone might take it away, often making himself sick. Any effort to help him was met at first with intense aggression, but he had learned to slow himself, and grown to trust them not to starve him.

He still can’t cope with sleeping in his crib – a beautiful thing carved from dark wood, and boasting a soft, downy mattress – so they’d taken his mattress, pillows and bedclothes and set him up on the floor in his favourite hiding place: the corner. It looked a little bare at first, so Shmi had strung some ribbons between the walls, creating a little overhang for him to sleep under. Master Gaexan had set Shmi up with a bed in his room, and tasked her with keeping an eye on him during the night. Over the past few months, he really has grown to trust her, it seems. He never falls asleep before she does. But some nights, when it’s cold, or when the nightmares come nipping too close, he’ll toddle over and wake her, and she’ll pull him in beside her for warmth and comfort.

He’s still sleeping in her bed now, it being rather early in the morning. Shmi sneaks back into the room, and sets a small pot in the middle of the room. She doesn’t have a proper Life Day tree, or even any decorations, but she had acquired a little gift for him. Someone in the market had been kind enough to give her a little hanging ornament, forest green and shiny like durasteel. Not only that, but she’s managed to decorate a houseplant to substitute for a tree, with little shiny pieces of rubbish and imperfect blooms that Mistress Rynii wouldn’t use in her flower pressing. It looks rather lovely, if a little hodgepodge.

Little Maul wakes up once the golden light of the sun reaches the top of his bedroom door. Right at the usual time. He yawns, and rubs his little eyes with his fists. Shmi helps him clean the sleepy dust from his eyes.

“Good morning,” she says, with a smile. Maul stays quiet, his expression blank, but that isn’t unusual. Sometimes if the nightmares are bad, it takes him a little while to adjust to the far kinder waking world. His eyes shine amber as he gazes up at her. He holds his arms straight by his sides.

“Did you have a nightmare, Maul?” she asks, fondly. He drops his gaze to the floor, and nods. Poor thing. He does often feel guilty about these things, though she doesn’t understand why. She lifts his chin with a finger. “Oh, it’s alright, dear. We all have bad dreams sometimes. I have something for you.”

Maul’s eyes widen a little, and his shoulders hunch as his muscles tense; in his tortured world, ambiguity is always something to fear. Shmi seeks to correct the problem with due haste. “I think you’ll enjoy it,” she says, smoothing his sleeves a little. She smiles in the most reassuring way she can, and strokes his cheek gently. He relaxes a little, though he’s still shaking a little. Shmi moves aside, providing him with a clear line of sight to her little Life Day tree.

His little brow furrows quizzically, and he stares at the tree for a few moments before looking back to her. Shmi smiles, encouragingly. “Go on. You can take a look.”

Slowly, Maul approaches the tree. He walks all around it, bestowing dubious looks upon every decoration. Eventually, his little face softens. He looks up at Shmi, eyes still wide, but no longer out of fear.

“What’s this?” he asks. The first words he’s spoken all morning.

Shmi chuckles. “It’s _supposed_ to be a tree.”

Maul looks back at it. It’s even smaller than he is, and he doesn’t seem convinced. “A tee?”

“Do you know what Life Day is, Maul?” Shmi asks, shuffling a little closer. Maul shakes his head, still examining the tree. “Well…I suppose it’s difficult for you or me to understand. But I’ll do my best to explain it.” Maul sits heavily on his backside, and turns his attention to Shmi.

“A story?” he asks, eagerly.

“Something of a story, yes,” she replies.

Maul crawls over to sit beside her. He hesitates a moment, but decides it’s safe enough to rest his head against Shmi’s thigh. Maybe he isn’t the most ordinary child, but he does share a love of story time that many younglings seem to possess. Shmi clears her throat, and puts a hand on Maul’s shoulder. “Many light years from here, there’s a planet called Kashyyyk. It’s a planet full of forests and jungles and oceans, and it’s home to a race called the Wookiees. You know what Wookiees are, don’t you?”

Maul, whose little head had perked up at the mention of the word, nods happily. She’d told him a few stories about them before, about her old friends, and he always enjoyed them. “Well, in ancient times, long before you or I were even dreams, the Wookiees decided that all the life and beauty their planet held deserved celebration. So they created a new holiday, dedicated to all they shared their world with, past, present and future. They called it Life Day.”

Shmi pauses, taking the time to look down at the little boy beside her. He’s watching her face, enthralled, despite her mediocre storytelling skills. Encouraged, she continues. “When I was a child, I met two Wookiees, a mother and her youngling, not yet out of the sling. Malry was her name, and the child was Atuma. And…they shared a Life Day with me.”

Her eyes squeeze shut almost involuntarily as memories swim to the forefront of her mind. Atuma had died soon after her first Life Day. Not from any natural cause, or disease, but…it doesn’t bear thinking about. She gently strokes Maul’s little head. Malry was devastated by the loss of her daughter, and she fell into despair. The last time Shmi had seen her, she had lost huge amounts of fur, and she’d been able to see the bones through the exposed skin.

Shmi blinks back tears, and gently squeezes Maul’s shoulder. “That’s what Life Day is about too. Remembering those we lost.”

She looks down at Maul with a reassuring smile. His beautiful eyes are wide and melancholy. Anything is better than the emptiness that sometimes fills them.

“Did they die?” he asks, quietly.

Shmi sighs. “I’m afraid so, dear.” Maul drops his gaze to the floor, eyes brimming with tears. “Oh no, oh don’t cry,” she says, hurriedly. She gathers up some of her sleeve, and wipes his face dry. He still looks miserable, of course, but Shmi will be damned before she lets Life Day be ruined for him. She takes his little hand, and rubs the back with her thumb. “Don’t be sad, dear. They were good people, and they’d hate to see you upset. Today we’ll celebrate the lives they lived. Save the crying for another time.”

Maul nods, and rubs his eyes with his fists. She strokes his cheek affectionately. “Do you know what my favourite Life Day tradition is?” she asks, hoping to bring the conversation back into the realm of cheery. Maul shakes his head, eyes still glistening with sorrow. “When we celebrate Life Day, we exchange gifts.”

Shmi brings a box out from beside her; she’d placed it out of Maul’s direct line of sight. She places it in front of the boy, and moves around to better see his face.

“S’a box,” he says, the sadness slowly fading from his voice.

“Yes, it is,” she chuckles. “Do you need help to open it?”

“No!” he replies, and he starts to pick clumsily at the box.

Eventually he manages to hook his little fingers around the lid, and he lifts it away from the box with a little assistance. The green ornament sits inside, showing a distorted reflection of Maul’s little face back to him. His brow furrows in confusion or suspicion. He gingerly touches the surface, and when he finds himself unhurt by it, he picks it up with both hands. A good minute or so passes, with him examining every inch of its surface.

“Wha’s ‘is?” he asks, eventually.

“It’s a decoration,” Shmi replies. Maul gives her a quizzical look. “Why don’t we hang it above your bed?”

Maul looks unconvinced, but hands her the emerald orb. She takes it by its hook, and gets to her feet, offering her free hand to Maul so he can walk beside her. When they reach his corner, his little safe place, she hangs it over one of the ribbons strung above his mattress. It clashes with the colours of his little overhang, and she curses inwardly.

“Ooh!” Maul exclaims. He pulls his hand free and toddles underneath his overhang, gazing up at his new decoration. He looks at Shmi, and he gives her the most genuine smile she has ever seen him wear. A lump rises in her throat, and she feels a grin spread across her own face in response. “’S pretty!” he says, happily, and he plonks himself down on his bottom to stare at it some more. “Fank you, Smee.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” she says, fighting to keep her voice steady.

He watches the decoration, mesmerised, for a few more minutes. But his little face suddenly falls, and he looks sadly up at Shmi. “I didn’ get you anyfing.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Maul,” she says, stroking his cheek. “You didn’t know. I doubt that I would be allowed to keep anything you gave me, in any case.”

Maul looks down at the floor, his eyes melancholy. He appears to set his jaw, and then clambers out from under his overhang, towards Shmi. He reaches up, and puts his arms around her neck. Ever so gently, he presses his lips to her cheek with a little “muah!” He squeezes lightly before he lets go, and he puts a finger to his lips.

“Sssssss! Can’ take tha’ if they don’ know!” he whispers. Shmi gives him a kind smile, and he smiles back.

“Thank you, dear,” she says, holding his hand. “Happy Life Day.”

“Happy Life Day, Smee.”


End file.
